


Fool

by ljs



Category: Indiana Jones (1981 1984 1989 2008)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-16
Updated: 2010-10-16
Packaged: 2017-10-12 17:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/127291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ljs/pseuds/ljs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Canon-compliant for all films; beginning at the end of "Raiders."</p><p>"Fools," Indy said. "Bureaucratic fools."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fool

The doors of the government building shut behind him with a definite and infuriating bang, as final as the fucking government agents' fucking pronouncement, as loud as his footsteps on the stone steps.

"Fools,” Indy said to the world, and to Marion, who waited for him at the top of the steps. “Bureaucratic fools.”

He was so enraged that he almost walked off without her; so enraged that even her lipsticked smile and sharply sweet words didn't lighten the darkness. But without looking at her he offered his arm anyway, and they went out into the evening.

Their train-tickets back to Marshall were for the next morning. He'd idly thought they might celebrate the successful acquisition of the artifact with a night on (what passed for) the town. Not that American cities were exactly a place of interest or excitement for him – no fascinating uncatalogued artifacts lying about in D.C., really, although he had heard a story or two about the backrooms in the Smithsonian – but he would have made an effort.

Now, however, he was too busy swallowing his rage to pay attention to Marion's increasing stillness, to the fall of her smile in the dark. Finally she said, “Jones, what can I do to make you feel better?”

“Nothing.” He stopped on a corner, looked away from her gaze.

“So you're going to sulk for the rest of the night?”

He considered replying in the affirmative. But --”Light's changed,” he said gruffly.

“Great,” she muttered, and they walked off, together and separate.

Over dinner and drinks, however, he stopped... not sulking, but brooding. Yeah, that was what he had been doing. But there was candlelight, and actual silverware, and enough ice for his Scotch on the rocks, and Marion's smile again, natural this time. She'd chewed off her lipstick, the way she always did.

When he looked at her, his irritation eased, his eyes smiled. But somewhere deep, he remembered what she'd said on the steps: “I know what I've got,” she'd said.

“What?” she said now, a forkful of steak halfway to her mouth.

“What what?” he said, and tapped his finger against his glass of Scotch.

“What are you looking at, Jones?”

“Looking at what I've got,” he said. Then, as she grinned at him, he said, “If I lose you again, Marion, feel free to call me a fool.”

“Oh, I will, Indy, I will,” she said, and took the bite.

.....................................

Six months later, even as he packed his bags in angry, desperate flight from her, it was he who called himself a goddamn fool. He went anyway.

But when the door slammed shut behind him, definite and final and loud, he stopped at the top of the steps. Waited. And for a moment, he felt as lost as the Ark.


End file.
